Divided into Love
by EscapingGreatly
Summary: Written for the When Love Was New contest. A divide separated the country, determining your rights. He was a Southerner, she a Northerner. Two people torn apart by society. Yet it was their love for the other which kept them together. EB AU AH


**When Love Was New Contest**

**Title of Entry:** Divided into Love

**Your pen name:** EscapingGreatly

**If you would like to see all the stories that are a part of this contest visit: When Love Was New C2 Community ****  
**http://www(DOT)fanfiction(DOT)net/community/When_Love_Was_New_Contest_Entries/73614/

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**A/N Much thanks to my beta Lena. She did wonders with this. **

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"Where have you been, Isabella?"

Bella froze, as the voice carried across the room, rebounding in the corners and doubling in intensity. The lights switched on and she saw her father, Charlie, standing at the doorway, arms crossed and a frown on his anger-stricken face. The dark-brunette girl noted that he'd obviously just gotten in a short time ago. He was still in his suit, his tie not even taken off. Charlie stood taller in a pathetic attempt to assert his dominance, failing miserably considering that his daughter was completely unperturbed by it.

The teenager simply shrugged, deciding to play it off. "Out" He wanted to know where she had been? He had no right. And even if he had, she would never – not for the life of her – tell him. Her secret was far too important, far too dangerous for anyone else to know and she would protect it with anything she had, even if it meant standing up to her influential father. Nevertheless, it seemed as though this time, Charlie wouldn't give up that easily.

"Don't get smart with me, young lady. Where have you been?" If Bella hadn't bent over at exact that moment, she would have noticed her father's stance changing slightly, his shoulders straightening out even more so than before and his eyes gleaming darkly at the obvious defiance his daughter was showing towards him.

"I told you I was out, father. I don't need to tell you anything anymore." Bella stood up from her position of taking off her heels, so that they wouldn't make a noise against the tiled floors. Her shoes still on, she walked away from her father, clutching her coat in her hands, as she pushed open a door at the side of the foyer and walked out into a hallway.

She could hear his voice shouting at her, but ignored it habitually, walking on up the stairs, cursing the designers for demanding so many of them, before she entered her own room, slamming the door shut behind her as loudly as possible. It would only do Charlie good to hear that the conversation was over and extremely undesired to be continued on her part.

Mumbling obscenities to herself at her father's audacity to question her whereabouts when he'd been out every night for the past week, fucking some whore of his, whilst still being married to her mother, Bella stumbled over to her wardrobe, stripping her jeans and top off, putting on a tank top and sweats instead to make herself comfortable.

Her eyes involuntarily glanced at the phone which lay on her bedside table, willing it to ring with all of her heart. She knew that there would be no real peace for her consciousness, before she hadn't heard the comforting ringing of her cell phone. Pulling out the covers from her bed, she quickly climbed into the warmth, her head on the pillow, her body surrounded by the warmness of her quilt. Her head turned on its own accord, her eyes trained strictly on the phone.

_Ring. Please. Ring._

Every night, she would worry about him. From the moment they said goodbye at the meadow to the moment he stepped into his room, she knew that he was at risk. She'd tried to tell him it was too risky for them, too dangerous to keep on seeing each other. But he'd been adamant that they still met. And well - she hadn't wanted to say goodbye to him either, nor would she ever really want to.

The eventual vibrating of her mobile stopped her thoughts, as Bella froze, her eyes watching the phone and her heart starting to adapt the rhythm of the ringing sound. This was what she was waiting for. Always. Every night. No exception. And until now, there hadn't been a single time it hadn't come. For years, it had been the one sound that had guaranteed her a restful sleep, the one sound that had seen her off to her dreams.

_One._

It cut off, before starting to ring again.

_Two._

Again it cut off, ringing a third time.

_Three._

Bella listened intently for the final ring and when it came, she closed her eyes and sighed with relief.

_Four._

Only one person ever called her on that phone. Frankly, it was the only person she cared to hear from. But it was also the one person who she could never answer to. They communicated like this. Sending signals to each other on pay-as-you-go phones that were untraceable. Because it was the only way that meant they wouldn't run the risk of being caught, after they had managed to get home undetected. Four rings and that meant he was home safely. Once again.

She smiled, her eyes closing easily, now that she knew he was safe. Edward Cullen was her drug. He was the boy who'd saved her life when she had just been seven years old and had fallen into the small lake at their meadow. At that moment, panic had gripped her and she had splashed around recklessly, only calming when his hand had gripped her and pulled her towards the bank. Even at the age of eight, he had been the calm one, the strong one. And by now, it was their spot, their meadow. Over the years, they'd met nearly everyday. At first, they had been young and innocent, knowing nothing about the outside world. But as time had passed and they had started to grow older, the society they lived in had become clearer. And it had revealed its awful shades, its horrid truth. Society as they knew it was divided. They were living in a two-class humanity, separating them with brutal force and without scruple.

Bella was from the rich Northern states; she undoubtedly was a Northerner with all the privileges that were a given, considering her status. Her father was a billionaire, a ruthless businessman who made his money through the misfortunes of the Southerners. She'd been brought up in luxury, with the world at her feet. Anything she wanted, she could have. She had opportunities. She had the means to succeed. Edward was from the South. A boy brought up in a loving, but poor family. As he had grown, he had learnt that he was considered a second class citizen. He didn't have rights. He didn't have opportunities. He was _nothing_ like Bella.

Yet, on that day besides the lake, when Bella had been seven and Edward had been eight, they'd formed a bond. They hadn't known about their social differences then. And they didn't care about it now. And that was all that really mattered.

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"So you understand, James? You pick it up from Laurent, and then assemble it, before handing it over to Vicky. Vicky, you'll walk into the mall, put the package down, then get the fuck outta there. The place will blow in five. Understood?" Murmurs rang through the warehouse, confirming the details.

"Great. Let's make it a good one. They won't know what has fucking hit them." The blonde man speaking chuckled darkly, as he imagined the destruction that was to happen. Laughter erupted, as the meeting was adjourned. Edward stood up, his head spinning with the details he'd just heard and walked outside into the bitter cold air. The light wind blew his hair away from his face, ripping through his thin coat, as he tried in vain to hold the lapels tighter together.

"So, what'd you think?" Jasper Whitlock asked, his large hand clamping down on Edward's shoulder in a vice-like grip. Still the copper-haired boy managed to wrestle himself free, turning around to look at the boy standing in front of him now.

"They're…" Edward looked around, making sure no one was around to hear what he was about to say, because he was pretty sure that his next words wouldn't exactly be taken gladly, "planning to bomb a fucking office. What am I supposed to think?" Edward hissed out, glaring at his best friend. The lean, blond boy wasn't impressed, though, by the withering look he was being assaulted with. Instead he chose to get his point across once more. Putting his hands on both of Edward's shoulders, he leaned down to stare directly into his eyes, emphasizing his following statement.

"You're supposed to think that this is something great. This is something that we're doing to achieve freedom and equality. This is something that's gonna change things in this world. This is all for a good cause. That's what you're supposed to think. But I'm asking you what you actually do think." The greyish-blue eyes were spraying sparks, as he talked about the aims they were trying to accomplish. Edward, however, only stared at him. Jasper was the same age as him and they'd known each other their whole lives, growing up as next door neighbours. If there was anyone besides Bella who he could count on, Edward knew it would be Jasper. But Edward also knew that the Jasper he had become friends with and the Jasper that was standing in front of him now were two very different people.

"What you looking at me like that for, Eddie?"

It wasn't all that hard to see that Jasper saw nothing wrong in the plan that the leader of the previous meeting had just informed them of. But Edward did see the errors of that all the more and he wasn't going to keep silent about it. "Aren't you the least bit concerned that the bomb's gonna hurt and kill people, Jazz? And don't call me Eddie."

"Ok, first, you call me Jazz, I'll call you Eddie. And second, so what? No Southerner is gonna get hurt. Only them rich ass Northern bitches. Who cares?" It was obvious to see that Edward's attempts to make Jasper see sense were falling on deaf ears. Jasper's hatred and bitterness seeped through his words. He hadn't always been like this, Edward remembered. There had been a time he had simply lived for himself, rather than trying to solve the problems of 'The Great Divide' between the Northern and the Southern people. But that had been before his life had been invaded by the never ending conflict.

"Look, is this because of that chick? That northern chick you see?" Jasper goaded. The mocking sneer that accompanied his words only added to the offence he was committing right then and there. "Leave Bella out of this." Edward growled. He and Jasper had sworn that she wouldn't be spoken of. Not now, not ever. Bella would have a fit, if she knew that Jasper knew, but he couldn't have helped it, after Jasper had followed Edward one evening and had seen them together.

"Ah, so when it's Bella, you get all predatory." Seeing Edward's glare, Jasper knew he was pushing it to the very limit. He held his hands up in surrender, a smirk on his face. "Ok, fine. I'll stop pushing. Just think about it, alright? Think about how if you don't join people are gonna get suspicious of you. People are gonna wonder why you don't want equality, why you're not willing to do whatever it takes. Then what are you gonna tell them? That you're fucking some Northerner and you don't wanna hurt the whole lot of them now?"

Hearing the crude way Jasper had described Bella and their friendship, Edward grabbed a handful of his best friend's shirt, shoving him into the brick wall behind them, his face only centimetres away from Jasper's. "Don't fucking talk about her, okay? I'll think about it. But don't you fucking say a goddamn word." Giving Jasper one last shove into the wall, Edward stalked off, walking the familiar route to his flat. After climbing the stairs which stunk of piss, he walked along to his apartment, shoving the key into the hole and twisting the handle.

"I'm home!"

His mother, Esme Cullen, appeared, a loving smile adorning her face, as she saw her son. "Dinner's in the oven, Edward. Go change, and then eat. Your father will be home soon." That was strange. Edward checked his watch again to make sure he hadn't got the time wrong. No, it was already half past seven. "Dad's still not back?" His curious question was answered by a muffled reply of his mother, who was trying to keep the heat inside of the house by closing the window she had opened to get the smell of dinner out of the small flat.

"He's putting in extra hours. Alice needs a school uniform."

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He had known there was something different about Bella, when he had first seen her. She hadn't looked like any other girl he'd ever seen before. Besides the fact that she had been impeccably clean and had worn what had looked to be expensive clothes, she had surveyed the meadow with a look of wonder and innocence. When he had seen her lean forward to the lake, he had known that she hadn't comprehended the consequences and he had been right. He really hadn't wanted to get out of his hiding place. He hadn't even been meant to be there in the first place. The meadow was in the Northern part of town – not too far in, but far enough that he had known he shouldn't be seen. But one day of adventure when he had been younger had led him to the meadow and it was a place he was unwilling to part with.

He'd helped her that day. And as she had dried off, they'd talked like two normal kids. Then they had arranged to meet again the next day. And so their friendship had begun. It had been four years later, when Bella had been eleven and he had been twelve, that she had slipped him a cell phone. "I've programmed a number on there. If you need me for something, anything at all, you ring it three times. Then we'll meet here. It'll be a signal. We need to create signals."

That was when he had known that she understood the difference between them. Over the years, they'd both learnt about the other's lifestyle, but they'd never talked about the danger Edward faced, as he ventured into the Northern part of town. Even now, they never talked of the fact that her people, the so-called first class, would persecute his people, the ones perceived as second class. They never talked about anything except them. But when she had given him the mobile, he had known that she understood, yet didn't care. That she cared too much about him, Edward Cullen, than about him, the Southerner. And it was that fact which kept him coming back to her.

He couldn't deny that there were times when he thought of their friendship and wished for a bit more. But then reality would crash back down on him and he'd remember that even if he liked her as more than a friend, it wasn't exactly as if they could be in a relationship. There were just too many obstacles. Too many things that would tear them apart. No, friendship would just have to be it for them. And even that would always remain dangerous. At least, until the world around them got better. Changed.

Edward sat up in his bed, hands running through his hair, as his thoughts raced frantically through his mind. He needed things to change, so that he could have a chance with Bella. And it'd been that very day when the opportunity had been presented to him, willing him to take it. Jasper's haunting words echoed in his head once again.

"_You're supposed to think that this is something great. This is something that we're doing to achieve freedom and equality. This is something that's gonna change thing's in this world. This is all for a good cause. That's what you're supposed to think."_

And it was then he knew he had his answer.

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Bella rushed into her room at high speed, having heard the faint vibrations of her phone, as she had neared her bedroom door. She picked it up, anxiously peering at the display and her heart jumped once again. Never before had the phone given signals during daytime.

Three missed calls.

Bella's eyes widened at their signal for an emergency. Rushing to her wardrobe, she picked up a pair of jeans, huffing when they refused to go on, before deciding to just throw on a simple dress and flats. Running out of her room, Bella raced down the hallway, careful to avoid bumping into things. Racing down the stairs, a firm grip on the banister, Bella entered the entrance way, removing her shoes, so they wouldn't make a noise and alert anyone to her leaving. It wasn't that late. But it was late enough that she would have a curious question directed her, if she was spotted running out the door. And the last thing she needed right now was an interrogation, when Edward could be in serious danger for all she knew.

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"Edward, what's wrong?" Bella's voice was frantic, as she called through the meadow towards his figure. Edward was sitting on a tree trunk; his hair was wind-swept, his face unusual serious and unmoved by her arrival. "Sit down, Bella." Edward patted the spot besides him and Bella sat down shakily next to him. His arm came around her shoulder, his fingers rubbing against her forearm in an attempt to warm her from the cool air. "You should've worn a coat." She didn't miss the protective undertone his voice had taken on when reprimanding her for endangering her health, but she couldn't bring herself to care right now.

"I couldn't find one that soon. It doesn't matter. What's going on?" Edward extracted his arm from her, shrugging of his jacket and placing it around her before taking a deep breath, preparing to deliver his news. The chance that she would take to them well was not that good, but he was prepared to explain his choice to her if necessary. "I attended a meeting today with Jasper." Bella stiffened immediately. Edward had told her about his best friend. How he had gone from being an empathic boy to a cold shell of a person after the arrest of his father and brother. They'd been taken in on false charges by the authorities, but they were too poor to afford a good lawyer. And no one was willing to stand up for a Southerner, anyways. Bella didn't know the exact details of what had happened – only that the fact that his family was left to rot in jail had sent Jasper off the rails. And the information that he and Edward attended a meeting – she had a horrible feeling that what she was about to hear wouldn't please her. "It was a meeting with the SSF."

Bella's head whipped around, staring at Edward in shock. No matter what she had expected to hear, it hadn't been that. Never that. Even now, she still had difficulties trying to understand what Edward had just told her. He couldn't have. He would never… and yet he had. "Why the fuck would you go to an SSF meeting, Edward?" The disdain in her voice was unconcealed and spoke for itself. And still he would not give up on explaining things to her. It was elementary that she understood, that she got where he was coming from.

"Listen before you blow up ,okay, Bella? SSF – I know what you and Northerners think of SSF, but-" He was off-handed interrupted by the angry brunette beside him, cut off in his explanation, because Bella wouldn't have any of it. She wasn't going to sit there and listen to him going on about how the SSF weren't what she thought she was, because she already _knew _what to think about them.

"They're terrorists, Edward." Her voice was completely calm now, since she wasn't even stating an opinion, but a known fact. The SSF were terrorising the country by detonating bombs everywhere Northerners were known to wander about galore. She was looking straight at him now, willing him to agree with her. But he couldn't do her the favour. Not this time. Not entirely.

"And I'm not completely disagreeing with you there." His green eyes were boring into her brown ones, quietly apologizing for not telling her what she wanted to hear. But Bella ignored his pleas and stood up, anger consuming her. "Not completely disagreeing? What's that supposed to mean?" In her opinion, there were only two ways to perceive the SSF: One, you were completely against them, because they were setting the safety of the entire country at risk or two, you supported them full-heartedly and were a member or at least had someone from your family in their ranks. There simply was no way to only half-agree with both opinions. And still Edward seemed to do it.

"You see them from a different perspective, Bella. To you, they harm your people. But it's nothing different from what Northerners do to me and my people." Edward knew that his last sentence probably was the wrong way to go about the topic and he was right, for Bella's eyes began blazing in earnest now. "You're saying that, just because the SSF harm _Northerners_ it doesn't matter?"

"No! Dammit, you're not listening, Bella."

"Damn right I'm not listening – you're blabbing a bunch of nonsense! I can't believe you attended a meeting. What are you – a fucking member now?" Her comment was sarcastic, or meant to be. But as she noticed the guilty look on Edward's face, she recoiled back. Her steps faltered, and backing away, she stumbled. Her face was painted with shock, her hands clutching at the lapels of his jacket, as if she could clutch to some normality.

"You're - you're…" Her whispers pleaded with him to disagree with her. Pleaded with him to tell her she was being absurd. But he didn't. He couldn't. Because she had hit the nail right on the head. He had joined this very morning. "You're jumping ahead. I need to explain things, Be-" Once again she wouldn't let him finish what he was trying to say.

"You're a fucking member of the SSF! You're a terrorist?" Bella's shock turned into fury, her feet moving her back to stand in front of Edward, as she shoved against his shoulder, violently spitting out her words and at the same time nearly chocking on them. Her insides burned with passion, a sense of betrayal seeping through her entire body and her system being flooded with rage and ferocity.

"Hold on, okay?! Just-" Edward was cut off by a sharp slap stinging the side of his face. He stepped back in an instant; startled that she had hit him. She had never hit him. In the nine years they'd known each other, not once had she hit him. Not once had she meant to hurt him.

"My best friend is my enemy." Bella whispered, aghast at the words her mouth was forming. And to Edward, they felt like a second slap, only ten times worse than the first one. So this was how it was going to be. She was finally admitting what they had hidden away for so long. "I've always been your enemy, Bella. We were never meant to like each other. This" Edward motioned between the two of them, "was never meant to be. So don't start now with all this enemy bullshit." She watched as his face contorted into a grimace consisting of pain, a slight trace of anger forming, but desperation still winning out. And when he listened to her next words, the anger that had threatened to overcome him disappeared again.

"I never saw you that way – you know that."

"Do I? Bella, why can't you let me explain everything?" Edward pleaded with her, wanting an opportunity to explain why he felt he needed to do this. Why he needed, why he wanted freedom. Why he wanted to be with her. Why he feared what would happen if he turned down the offer. He wanted to tell her his desires, his fears. He wanted to confide everything in her, just like he'd done before. Or as he had thought he'd done before. Looking back, Edward realised that, whilst she was the one person he always told things to, there had always been some things which he couldn't tell her. He couldn't tell her what it felt like to be unable to walk into a restaurant, because he wasn't allowed to. Because he was considered a second-class citizen. He couldn't tell her how scared he was to venture into a Northern area for fear of being attacked. He couldn't tell her how ashamed he felt, when he saw her expensive clothes and how he compared her lifestyle to his.

But he wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her what it meant to be a Southerner, a second class citizen in a world where - if you weren't Northern - you couldn't succeed. He wanted to tell her. So badly. He needed to tell her his decisions, his motives. He needed the _chance_ to tell her. But he wouldn't let her. For the first time since they had known each other, Bella Swan wasn't ready to hear what Edward Cullen, her best friend, had to tell her. Because he had betrayed her.

"What's there to explain, Edward? No matter what you tell me, you'll still be a member of the SSF. You'll still be a terrorist." Bella's voice broke, pain laced clearly within her words. She wasn't giving him that chance. And still he was going to try. "Bella – SSF. You know what it stands for? It means Society for Southern Freedom.

"I don't want a goddamn lesson, Edward." She was becoming impatient now, hoping that the pain would go away, that she could somehow wake up and everything was back to what it had been like before. And Edward could feel it. Just like always, he was attuned to each and any of her current state of feeling and the desperation that she was sending out was stronger than the wind that had picked up a few minutes earlier. Edward blew a breath out of his mouth before taking a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was starting to get frustrated. Why couldn't she listen? "Just let me explain, ok?"

"NO! It's not ok, Edward. You don't understand. I'm already friends with you. Now you want to go and join a fucking terrorist group?" She was really angry now, aggravated by his constant tries to justify his previous actions, and her rational side was about to log off completely, letting her say things she would have kept in otherwise. Anger flowed through Edward at her choice of words. She had not realised exactly what she had said or what the impact of her words would mean to him. But Edward felt the hurt and anger roll off him. And he couldn't stop the words from lashing out.

"What'd you mean 'You're already friends with me'? Do you not want to be friends with me, Bella? Because I'm not forcing you. No one's holding a fucking gun to your head. I'm not a charity case, Bella. I don't need your friendship, ok? And if you don't fucking want it, just tell me and I'll stop wasting my time, risking myself sneaking over here all the time, just to please your majesty." He wanted to take them back. He wanted to erase what he'd said. He knew that it was over the line and completely contradicting himself. But her words had hurt him, had cut through him like a knife, and he had retaliated. And now it was too late to stop them.

Bella stared at him, shocked and hurt by his outburst, before wordlessly opening her bag and pulling out a small object. Walking over to him, she stood; their bodies close together. "You know what, Edward? Fuck you." Shoving the object into his chest, she stormed off, rushing quickly towards the other side of the meadow, turning around and screaming something inaudible, before walking off again. Edward lent back against the tree, watching Bella's retreating form. Looking down at the object she'd thrust at him, the boy sunk to the floor defeated.

The phone.

The one method of contact they had with each other.

And it was broken.

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He sat there in the sun, waiting for her to show. He didn't really expect her. It was the day after their fight, after all. She would undoubtedly need more time to cool down. But a part of him wished, prayed and hoped that he would see her walk through the opening of their meadow, willing to give their friendship another chance. He cradled the phone in his hand. It had felt wrong to take it away with him the previous night. It should have been with her. It was supposed to be with her. The sun started to go down, the sky fading from blue to orange, to a dark dusky colour, before turning into black. Yet, Edward still sat there, cradling the phone in his hand, waiting for her to show up.

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After three weeks, Edward realised that she wasn't going to show. He had spent his whole days sitting in their meadow, not having school at all, since he hadn't been allowed to visit school past the age of fourteen. So, he spent his time waiting for her at the meadow. But she never showed. After three weeks, Edward stopped staying the day and part of the night at the meadow. He'd go and sit there for a few hours, always alternating the time spans, just in case Bella would turn up at a certain time. But she never did. And it was those days and weeks of sitting there, cradling the phone that symbolised their connection, besides the tree they'd carved their initials into two years after initially meeting, that Edward realised why he still waited. Why he hadn't given up on her yet.

_He was in love with her._

He'd had feelings for her, yes. Bella had always been special to him; they'd been friends for so long he knew her better than any other person and vice versa. But he'd never thought of love. Not until he realised that he'd spent so long waiting. So long confining himself to the lone meadow, holding a phone, reminiscing on memories.

_He loved her._

He didn't just like her. He didn't just want to have a relationship with her. He wanted something deeper. He wanted to hold her and protect her. He wanted to be worthy of her. He wanted to be _able_ to be worthy of her. He wanted so much and he knew he could have none of it. Because he loved a Northerner, when he was only a Southerner.

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Tears poured down her face, mingling with the scalding water flowing from the showerhead. She was miserable. She'd blown up at Edward, unwilling to hear him out and then let her anger take over her. For a while, she'd been unable to comprehend what would drive him to the decision of joining the SSF. But then Bella had forced herself to calm down, to think things through. He'd told her the meaning of the group's name. It was about ensuring Southerners' freedom. She might not agree with the methods they used, but did she really disagree with its aim? _Could_ she disagree with its aim?

Weeks had passed and Bella had debated with herself constantly. Yes, she didn't like it. But Edward was right: It was no worse than what her people – and they were her people, no matter how much she thought she was unlike them - did to his people. A prime example would be Jasper. His family had been torn from him, taken away while being completely innocent. The only difference was that what the Northerners did was deemed legal and the actions of the SSF were deemed terrorism. As Bella finally started to understand Edward's motives, she knew she had to do something about it. But what? She'd given him the phone, which had been their only method of communication.

At a loss for what to do, Bella broke down, her sobs wracking through her body, as she showered. She wondered why it hurt so much. How could a mere friendship make her feel like someone had ripped her heart out and thrown it around, kicked at it, and stabbed at it?

_Her heart._

Bella gasped, her hand flying to her chest, as her eyes closed, the water cascading down her body. She loved him. That's why it hurt so much. That's why she felt like she had a constant pain in her heart. She laughed humourlessly at herself. She'd always been the girl to make fun of clichés like that. Who felt heartbreak? But she had never known what she had been laughing at. She had never known, because she'd never loved. And because of her not loving, she'd never had the chance to feel heartbreak. But she felt it right then. Collapsing onto her knees, Bella knelt in the tub, allowing the water to beat down onto her body.

_She loved him. _

_She loved him._

_She loved him._

_And she'd lost him._

The water turned cold all of a sudden and Bella stood up, gasping from the shock. The iciness woke her up from her misery, startling her awake and she quickly turned the shower off, reaching for her towel to wrap it around her. She loved Edward Cullen. She had lost him. But she was going to get him back.

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He had waited. He had waited and waited and waited. But she had never come. Each day, he had looked around the meadow, recalling more memories of their time. Remembering the first time they had met and he had pulled her out of the lake. Remembering how, a year later, she'd snuck him a ferrero rocher and the taste of the chocolate and nuts which had still lingered on his tongue for a while later. Remembering how she'd brought her homework with her and they'd try and do it together. And then, as they had grown older, his shame of not being able to keep up with her due to lack of schooling.

But apart from those few times when he'd think of his lower class background, they were together as equals. They would laugh and joke and debate topics of interest. She would tell him about movies and he would sing to her. She would bring him books to read aloud to her, as she laid her head in his lap. As Edward stood in the meadow, remembering the special moments he had shared with Bella, he smiled as he realised that, throughout their relationship, he'd always loved her in a way. She'd always held a place in his heart. Whether it was at first the friendship love or the romantic love which had developed later – he'd loved her. He'd just been too slow to realise it.

He wanted to tell her. He wanted to fall down on his knees and tell her. But she hadn't come back to him. Why would she? She had the world at her feet. Why would she want to spend her life with someone who she couldn't even enter a restaurant with? So he was going to retreat. Bow out. He just needed to say his one last goodbye to the place which held so many memories. Glancing one last time around the meadow, he bent down, his fingers scraping at the mud besides their tree, until a sufficient amount was dislodged, before placing a small object down and covering it up. Then, with one last sweep of his eyes around, he walked away. He'd waited for her. But she had never come. So now, he was leaving.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bella tripped, her hands falling out in front of her to brace her from the fall. Pushing herself up again, she forced her feet to move faster, carry her forward to her destination. Bursting through the meadow, she glanced around, her heart dropping at the emptiness. _He can't always be here, Bella. Just wait. He'll show up._ She sat down against a tree, her fingers picking absently at the grass. And she waited.

--

She waited.

--

And waited.

--

And waited.

--

Weeks had passed with Bella rushing to the meadow first thing after school, taking her homework and some food with her. It was during those weeks when she was thankful for the lack of attention at home, as no one questioned her whereabouts. Each day that Bella would approach the meadow, anticipation of seeing him building up, her heart would start to throb, thud so hard she could feel the beat pulsing through her. Each day, when she walked through the meadow and saw no one, her heart would fall. And each day, when she stepped away from the meadow, a single tear would leak out of her eye.

Weeks had passed, and she was tired of waiting. She'd vowed that she was going to win him back. The meadow was useless. And Bella cursed herself for throwing the phone at him in a fit of rage. That was their means of communication. It wasn't easy to buy pre-paid phones, as the Northerners were scared that the Southerners would use them to plan terrorist attacks. The only way she could reach him was to go to him. The thought scared Bella. Neither had gone to each other's houses. And Bella knew that, as a Northerner, venturing into the Southern part of town would be hard. But it was a risk she was willing to take. She was going to win him back, and she was going to win him back soon.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

With the wrinkled piece of paper in her hand, Bella stood at the border of the town with her nose scrunched. The paper she held had Edward's address – an address he'd scribbled down to her a few years ago, just in case something important had happened. He'd written down vague directions, trying his best to explain to her how to navigate the broken streets of his neighbourhood. Walking along the alley, Bella noticed the graffiti adorning the bricked walls, the bags of rubbish lying in the street. Her hand instinctively flew to her nose, as the stench of sewage floated through the air. "Shit." Her foot hit the side of a bin, a loud bang breaking through the silence. It happened then. All at once they were on her. A sweaty hand around her mouth. Fingers pulling at her hair. Grabbing hands touching her legs, hoisting them off the ground. Her wrists being pulled back sharply.

"What the fuck you doing down here, bitch?"

"Slumming it, are you?"

"This a fucking dare?"

Their voices pierced through the haze Bella found herself in. Her head spun her vision distorting. But their voices remained clear. Their cruel jibes taunting her.

"Fuck you, fucking Northerner."

It was the last thing she heard before the blow to her head saved her from having to listen to them anymore.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Some rich bitch was found wandering the streets. Can you believe it?" Jasper laughed. "She's too sick of prancing around her own place; she's now trying to stick her nose into our place." Edward nodded absentminded, his attention focused on the cold wind that whipped around them, as they made their way to the warehouse. He had never really felt warm after the time he had left the meadow behind for good, and the wind was doing nothing to improve his situation. Ever since Bella and he had parted, there had been little that had been able to bring him out of his stupor, little that actually managed to grab his attention. Jasper acted, as though he didn't notice, simply prattling on about the latest news.

"They took her to the warehouse for now. They'll just scare her a bit. Then let her go." The cruel grin that went along with his words had Edward fearing for the wellbeing of whoever had dared to commit the error of venturing into adversarial territory. Walking behind enemy lines always was dangerous, something he knew first-hand.

"They won't hurt her, will they?" Edward asked. Jasper stared at him with an incredulous expression on his face, an eyebrow arched. "If I wasn't your best friend, I'd think you were a fucking Northerner yourself, Eddie boy. No, they won't hurt her. Really. Although, actually, I don't know – I ain't their fucking minder."

"Fuck off. I just don't want an innocent to get hurt that's all."

"They're not innocent."

"Some are."

"No, Edward." Jasper stopped walking, turning to face Edward, pointing a finger in his chest. "They're not." His hand clenched and his eyes closed. Jasper breathed deeply, before opening his eyes again, his fingers releasing his friend's shirt. "They all know what's happening, but not one of them will do anything to change it. My family was ruined because of them. There were so many who knew it was wrong. There was no evidence, for fuck's sake! But did they do anything about it? Did they try and help out us Southerners? My father? My brother? No! They stood by and watched it happen. And here you are calling them innocent, just because you're a fucking pussy and in love with one of them."

Jasper started walking, his strides long and powerful as he stormed his way to the warehouse. Edward followed slowly behind him, his mind going over what Jasper had said. What he'd said was right – no one had done anything to save Jasper's family. But every single one of them couldn't be blamed. He knew that was what Jasper wanted to do, because it was the easy way out. But it didn't work like that. It never did.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Her head throbbed. Opening her eyes, Bella looked around at the room she was locked in. The walls were of brick, the floor cemented. Nothing was in there except a lone chair. Turning around, Bella cringed at the pain in her head. Unsure of where she was or what had happened, she lay there on the floor, her mind trying frantically to draw up her last moments of consciousness. Voices. They were on the other side of the door. They were voices she recognised. Sitting up slowly before pushing herself to stand, Bella walked over to the door, peering out of the small glass window. She'd been taken. Images flashed back in her mind of men grabbing at her, cursing and taunting her, as she had tried to find her way to Edward. Fear raced through her. What were they going to do? There looked to be a meeting going on. Were they meeting to decide what to do with her? Decide her fate?

Tears ran down her face, as she realised she'd come to an end. She'd failed in finding Edward. And now she wasn't being given any more time. Her stupidity at throwing the phone at him, at yelling at him, at not giving him a chance to explain came back to her, causing her to fall to the floor. She loved him. She wanted him. She was scared and alone and she wanted the man who protected her. She wanted the man who had pulled her out of the lake, when she had been seven. She wanted the man who'd helped her with her homework and had sung to her. She wanted the man she loved.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

They were finished. She could hear them saying goodbye, their boisterous yells sounding through the door. Bella moved away from the door quickly, as she heard the key turn. Her body shuddered, fear and anxiety predominant. Their eyes met first. She'd wanted to look at them boldly to show that they didn't scare her. So she met his eyes and recoiled. She'd found him. She'd waited and searched and she'd finally found him. Edward stood there before her, a scowling blonde man next to him. She averted her eyes quickly, not wanting him to see how much it hurt.

"What were you doing here? In our part of the town?" The blonde man asked, his voice rough, brutal. Bella hesitated. She could lie. Or she could tell the truth. Truth won out pretty quickly, as the searching gaze of the blonde pierced through her. "I was looking for someone." Her eyes rose again to meet Edward's, her heart lifting slightly as she saw his widened eyes and the hint of his crooked smile, before it vanished.

"Here? Who could you possible want here?" The man's scorn and hatred for her was evident and Edward stopped looking at her, turning instead to place a hand on the man's shoulder. "We were told to release her, Jasper, not interrogate her." There was no sign of any emotion that told anyone that he knew her. He'd always been good at concealing emotions, when they were endangering to him, she remembered fondly. Bella smiled at the sound of his voice. She hadn't heard it in so long. Her mind replayed the words, listening to his fluctuation.

"What you smiling at?"

"Jasper, stop."

She stopped smiling then, realising that the hostile blonde was Jasper. The boy, however, only glared at Edward, before stalking out of the room. She wanted to say something to him. Anything. But before she could open her mouth, Edward walked out, telling her to follow them. She did, her eyes focusing on his back. Watching as his muscles rolled, his shoulders tensed and his fingers twitched. She studied the way his legs strode forward and the way his jeans fit him snugly. She wanted to memorise it all, afraid it would be the last time. Before she knew it, she was outside. Jasper rattled of the general direction she should walk in, before telling her to not return and walking off into the night. She turned around then to talk to Edward. Apologise to him. Tell him how sorry she was. But he wasn't there.

He'd disappeared.

What little hope she had had left her. All along, she knew, she had had something to cling onto. Whether it was the idea that he would arrive at the meadow or that idea that she would find him, she always had had something to cling onto. Now she had nothing. Every way she could have thought to get him back had been used and had failed. She had failed. Her steps faltered and her eyes filled with tears. Her body suddenly felt so tired. So exhausted. So unable to move, unable to carry on. She just wanted to collapse against the wall and sleep away her nightmare. She wanted to forget how she'd ruined the best thing to happen to her, driven away the person she loved. Her eyes closed, her body leaning against the wall. Her knees weakened and her arms fell limp against her side, as she prepared to slump to the floor.

_Knock_

Her eyes opened.

_Knock_

She stood up straight.

_Knock_

Her heart started, stuttering back to life. Three knocks. It was their signal. A smile graced her face, her feet moving again in determination. Her hope had come back.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I waited for you." Edward and Bella stood in the meadow. He'd followed her from the warehouse, staying in the shadows, unsure who was watching him, watching them. When he had seen her steps falter and her body ready to give up, he had known he had to do something. So he had given her the signal. She'd been looking for him. He was the reason she had been taken into the warehouse. He felt guilty and wanted to beat himself up about it, but he knew he'd done enough of that. If she wanted to see him, to talk to him, she'd go to the meadow. Then he would know that he'd be able to forgive himself for leading her into the situation, because she'd have forgiven him.

As soon as she'd heard the signal, she had carried on, walking briskly back towards Northern territory. It was a long walk. Too long. He wanted to hold her. Run his hands over her body. Press his lips against hers. But he needed to talk to her first. And that needed to be done in the safety of their meadow. Bella stood across from him then, after she'd entered the meadow, waiting for him to approach. When she stayed silent, he decided to speak. "I waited for you." He saw her confusion and elaborated. "Every day I would come to the meadow, waiting for you, but you never showed." He tried to stop the hurt from overtaking his voice, but he couldn't.

"I'm sorry." Her whisper made him grin. Despite the situation, it had been too long since he'd heard her voice. And he cherished it. "I was so angry at you that it took a while for me to calm down. Then it took longer for me to think things through and when I did – I… I." She stopped speaking then, looking up at him with her eyes wide. From her expression he knew what she wanted to say, what she was going to say and he smiled, happiness filling him. His heart pounded, his teeth biting down on his lip as he waited for her to say it.

"Say it, Bella." He saw her hesitate. But he smiled and she must have gained some courage from his smile, because she started to speak. "I… I realised I loved you, Edward." Her eyes remained connected with his and he stepped forward slowly, inch by inch as he closed the gap between them. Bending down, his lips pressed against hers. Her hands immediately fisted in his hair, her body pressing against his. Her lips moved against his roughly, her hurt and anger at their situation, her need for him and her love for him conveyed. His hands pressed her closer to him, his fingers moving against her bare skin, as his hand travelled under her shirt. He broke away first.

"I never said it, Bella, and I really should." Edward ran his thumb over her lips, smiling as he saw her skin flushed red already. "I love you, Bella." He breathed his love for her, before claiming her in another kiss. Soon, Bella broke away, her hands toying with his t-shirt, a questioning look in her eyes. He didn't need her to say it. He didn't need her to ask. He smiled and nodded before laying her down, moving his body on top of her and reclaiming her lips.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

They dressed in silence. Their thoughts were racing, even though they should have been at peace. But then again, they had never been the people who did what they should have. "What do we do now, Edward?" The question was asked silently, the hopelessness lost in it somewhere, overridden for the moment in which they knew that they loved each other.

"I don't know, Bella. I'm a part of the SSF and I can't get out. I'm a Southerner and you're…"

"I'm a Northerner, you're the enemy."

"I'm also Edward Cullen."

"And I'm Bella Swan."

Edward walked over to the tree where they'd carved their names in, his fingers tracing over the carving briefly, before digging through the mud.

"Come here, Bella."

She walked over quickly, curious as to what he was doing. As she saw the objects in his hand, tears formed and a smile graced her face. Edward held up the phone that she'd thrown at him. The phone he had cradled as he had realised he loved her. Handing it to her, he watched as she took it with shaking hands. He stood up then, motioning for her to turn around, before he placed something around her neck. "It's Emerald. The stone in it. It belonged to my grandmother." Bella spun around quickly at his words.

"I can't take this, Edward."

"Yes, you can. You have to. I – I can't give you something which lets people know that you're taken. That you're mine. This is as good as it'll get. Emerald – it's, it's the colour of my eyes."

Bella nodded, understanding his need to claim her somehow. Her fingers traced the stone, her lips lifting into a smile, before turning her head to look up at him. Stepping onto her tip toes, she pressed her lips against his, her eyes closed. She didn't know what would happen. She didn't know how they'd survive. She didn't know what they would do outside the sanctity of their meadow.

All she knew was that he loved her and she loved him. And really, that was all that mattered.


End file.
